Читать книгу A Marriage-Minded Man / From Friend to Father: A Marriage-Minded Man / From Friend to Father - Karen Templeton - Страница 12

Kisses duly dispensed—how long, Tess wondered, before Miguel called a halt to that?—she sat in the drop-off zone in front of the elementary school, leaning farther and farther over to watch her little boy run off to join his classmates on the playground, until some doofus behind her leaned on his horn.

Okay, so maybe I’m just a smidgen overprotective, she thought as she pulled away, Julia singing one of her tuneless creations behind her. Tess suddenly had a vision of her baby with a nose ring and pink hair up on a stage somewhere surrounded by drugged-out rockers and nearly had a heart attack.

“Birdies, Mama! Look!” the little girl cried as they passed a naked ash tree studded with big, black, scary-looking crows. One of them cawed; Julia cawed right back, then giggled, and Tess relaxed, deciding she probably had a few years yet to worry about her daughter’s induction into the dark side. Right now, her major concern was getting the kid to her babysitter’s so Tess and Eli could trek to Home Depot to choose cabinets and paint and such.

Yeah, she was so looking forward to that. Sitting next to him in the confined space of somebody’s vehicle. For a half hour. Each way. Smelling him. Hearing him—

Please, God, just don’t let him chuckle, ’kay? Thanks.

It’d been a week since the Harrises approved Eli’s bid, bless their miserly souls, wrenching from Tess a promise she’d do an open house the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Never mind that open houses right before Christmas were pretty much nonstarters. Because people were, you know, doing Christmas shopping and putting up trees and wrapping presents and who the hell went house shopping in December?

Not that she used those exact words.

And anyway, these days grasping at straws was better than grasping at nothing. Maybe.

At least the demolition phase was moving along nicely. And quickly. Eli had found worker bees from God knew where—cousins and brothers and uncles of the guys who worked in the shop, she gathered—and lo and behold, the ’60s were vanishing right before her eyes. Now all the gutted kitchen needed was new cabinets and counters to make it all purdy—not to mention inhabitable—and they’d be good to go. But since the Harrises had entrusted Tess with all the design decisions—as in, as long as the project came in on time and under budget, they didn’t give a rat’s booty what it looked like—Eli insisted Tess go with him to help choose.

Hence her rumbly tummy.

She pulled up in front of the tidy little ranch-style house where Carmen Alvarado, Evangelista’s niece and Tess’s part-time babysitter, lived. One of her own toddlers straddling her hip, the smiling, slightly pudgy young woman opened her door, calling to Julia in Spanish before Tess had fully untangled her from her car seat. It wasn’t that the area locals couldn’t speak English—most of them did, as well or better than their gringo counterparts. But if English was a pair of dress shoes worn only in company, Spanish was that favorite pair of slippers you put on as soon as you got home.

Except for Tess, whose mother had refused to let her speak Spanish growing up, or even to take it in school, a quirk—the nicest word Tess could think of—that had always made Tess feel like part of her was missing.

Julia wriggled free as soon as the car door slammed shut, running up to her sitter, babbling about birds. “Vi parajos, Carmen! Muchos parajos! En arbol!”

“Usted hizo? Cool! Ahora dé a su mama un beso, sweetie!”

And wouldn’t that frost Julia’s grandmother? Tess thought as she and her daughter exchanged a dozen kisses before the little girl gleefully stomped up the few steps into the uber-babyproofed house filled with toys and dolls and books and healthy snacks…and no TV.

Yeah, maybe she shouldn’t think too hard about Carmen’s extraordinary child-care skills. “I should be back no later than two,” she said, and the young woman smiled.

“No problem. Since she takes her nap from one to three, take your time.”

As she was saying.

Twenty minutes later, some radio talk show—en espanol, natch—spilled through the half-open front door when Tess arrived at the house. Devoid of the rotting blue window trim, the house now looked like that old woman without any makeup at all, mouth and eyes agape in shock. Inside, the noise was as thick as the dust—bursts of laughter, the pow! pow! pow! of a nail gun, that radio show.

“Hello!” she yelled over the din, even as she took in the remarkable progress Eli and his elves had already made. Sure, it looked like a bomb had gone off, but you can’t re-do until you un-do. Not only that, but the pow-pow-powing was due to the brand-new shelving going into the living room, replacing the sorry, warped built-ins.

One of the workers noticed her and nodded, grinning. “Buscando Mr. Eli?”

“Yeah. Is he here?”

“In the back. He’ll be out in a minute.” He loaded another nail into the gun, then gestured with it toward the new shelves. “You like?”

“Very much,” Tess said. “They look terrific.”

“Gracias, senora.”

“De nada. I’m sorry…what’s your name?”

“Teo,” Eli answered, coming into the room. Smiling. Making Tess’s lungs seize up. “Teo Martinez.” He nodded toward both the gray-haired man and the younger one on the other side of the shelves. “And his son, Luis. I was damn lucky they were both available. Couldn’t ask for a better crew.”

“No, it’s us who are grateful, Mr. Garrett. With the economy the way it is?” He did the in-the-tank gesture with his thumb. “Not so easy, finding construction work these days.” Turning back to the shelves, he lined up the nail gun and let ’er rip. Pow. He glanced over his shoulder at Tess while reloading. “Las’ month was the firs’ time in twenty-five years I have to go on unemployment. Luis, he’s been laid off, what? Three, four times in the last year. With a wife and son to support, he’s thinking, maybe he should join the army or the marines—”

“It’s just an option, Pop,” the younger man said as Tess’s lungs seized again, for an entirely different reason.

“An’ I tell you—” pow “—wait a little while, see if things pick up. An’ see?” He tossed a grin in Eli’s direction. “They did.”

Tess’s gaze slid to Eli, exchanging an apologetic glance with the younger Martinez, and Tess guessed that this job was at best only a reprieve. The younger man shrugged—It’s okay, man, I’m cool—then bestowed a beautiful smile on Tess that broke her heart.

At that moment, Eli wasn’t sure what was tearing him up more—Luis’s bravado or the obvious turmoil that bravado provoked in Tess. Because even though she was smiling and commending Luis for wanting to serve his country, Eli could tell the conversation was bringing a whole lot of junk to the surface…even if he couldn’t immediately identify what that junk was.

“Looks great, guys,” Eli said to the two workers, then steered Tess into the gutted kitchen. “You okay?”

Caution flashed in her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know…maybe because the minute Luis brought up the military you looked like a brick had fallen on your head?”

“That obvious, huh?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Watching the young man, she breathed out a sigh. “How old is he?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Same age as Ricky when he first went in,” she said, more to herself than Eli. “Teo said there’s a kid?”

“Yeah. A little boy. Just turned one a couple weeks ago.” When Tess sucked in a breath, Eli said, “Tess? What is it?”

After several seconds, she shook her head. “Nothing. You ready to go?”

“Sure,” Eli said slowly, grabbing a leather baseball jacket off the counter’s skeleton and shrugging into it. He fished his car keys out of his pants pocket, then patted his other pockets, sighing. “Okay, I’m an idiot, I must’ve left my wallet at the shop.”

“It’s okay, we can take my car. I just gassed up, anyway.”

“That’s fine, but I need the company credit card. Which is in my wallet—”

“Wait—you’ve been driving without your license?”

“Yeah. From the shop to here. And since I wasn’t giving the sheriff any reason to pull me over, you can wipe that oh-my-God-you-didn’t look off your face. But you mind if we swing by the shop on our way out of town?”

“Not at all,” Tess said. Looking highly amused.

He told the guys they’d be back in a couple of hours, then followed Tess outside and to her car, not realizing until his hand landed on the driver door handle what he was doing. As he trooped around to the passenger side, grumbling, Tess laughed. It wasn’t the old Tess laugh—the laugh that used to drive him crazy, in a good way—but then, this wasn’t the old Tess.

“It must be killing you,” she said as they both got in, “letting me drive. You couldn’t stand it…” The key in the ignition, her eyes darted to his. “Before.”

“What can I say? I’ve evolved.” Shoulder belt latched, Eli leaned back, watching her. “At least, on the surface.” When she gave him a puzzled look, he shrugged. “It’s not like letting a woman drive threatens my masculinity or something. But to tell you the truth…sitting on this side of the car? I hate it. If I’m in a vehicle, I want to be the one driving. The one making the decisions that could mean the difference between me being alive at the end of the trip or not.” At her silence, he glanced over. “Just bein’ honest.”

Her mouth twitching, she glanced at him. “Can’t very well take offence since I feel exactly the same way.”

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“You think this means we have control issues?”

“Oh, I know we do,” he said. Then grinned. “Especially you.”

She didn’t grin back. Although she didn’t try smacking him with her purse, either. So he’d count that as a draw. “How on earth I’ll ever teach the kids to drive, though, I have no idea.”

“This is why God made driver’s ed. And you need to turn right up ahead—”

“I know where I’m going, Eli. Sheesh.”

But at least she was smiling.

When they got to the shop, Eli said, “You may as well come in. This might take a while.”

“You don’t know where your wallet is?”

“Sure I do. It’s in there. Somewhere.”

Rolling her eyes, she got out of the car and followed him inside. Jose glanced up from the table saw, nodding to Tess as she followed Eli back to his workspace. “Wow,” she said when she noticed the headboard. “That’s amazing. Who’s it for?”

“A client who canceled his order.”

“Idiot,” she muttered, then walked over to get a closer work. “Thea told me you’d gone into furniture making, but I had no idea you were this talented. No, seriously, I’m impressed. And I don’t impress easily.” Now there’s a shock, Eli thought as she added, “What’re you going to do with it?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” Eli muttered, pawing through the crap on his workbench.

“Wait a minute…I’d planned on staging the house anyway—if you haven’t sold the bed by the first open house, could I borrow it?”

Eli looked over. “You serious?”

“Absolutely. I’ve still got the old queen mattress and box-springs in my garage from when I changed out the master bedroom…” She shut her eyes for a second, then said, “And I’m sure I can rustle up a comforter and some pillows. And who knows, maybe somebody will buy it. So how about it?”

“Well…okay, then. Yeah. Thanks.” Eli spotted the shirt jacket he’d been wearing the day before; sure enough, the wallet was in the chest pocket.

“Any other furniture just lying around?” Tess said, craning her neck.

“Sorry, no. Although…” He glanced over at a stack of reclaimed lumber he’d been hoarding for more than a year. “I might be able to throw together a dining table and a couple of benches. If that would work.”

“Oh, don’t go to any extra trouble—”

“I wouldn’t be.” He held up the wallet. “Got it. Ready?”

As they traipsed back front, though, she stopped for a moment to chat with Jose—apparently his son and Enrique had been in boot camp together—and something warm bloomed inside him as Eli realized her friendliness wasn’t some salesperson schtick, but stemmed from a genuine concern about how other people were getting on. Not that she couldn’t get as bristly as the next person, if the situation—or the offense—warranted it. But neither did she let cynicism infect her relationships.

Not all of them anyway.

“Teo clearly thinks the world of you,” she said once they were on the road again. “For giving him and Luis work.”

“Just glad this job came along so I could. We’ve known the family forever. Mom and Teo’s wife, Luisa, do a lot of church stuff together.”

“Here,” she said, fishing a small pad and pen out of her purse on the console between them as she drove one-handed. Eli nearly had a stroke. “Write down their number,” she said, wagging them at him. “In case I hear of any other work in the area.”

Eli pulled out his cell, clicking through his contacts menu until he found Luis’s number. As he wrote it down, he slid his eyes to Tess. “Please tell me you’re not one of those women who puts on her makeup while driving.”

“Dear God, no,” she said on a short laugh. “Ricky hated that—” She hissed in a quick breath. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget. That he’s not really part of my life anymore.”

Replacing the pad and pen in her purse, Eli said, “Does it bother you to talk about him?”

A shrug preceded, “Depends on the day. Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes not.” She shoved a tuft of hair behind her ear; it popped right back out. “Since there’s nobody to talk to, though, it’s kinda moot.”

“What about your aunt? Or your friends?”

They drove probably another half mile or so before she quietly said, “Dumping on the people you care about gets old real fast.”

“Even though you’d do the same for them.”

She shot him a glance. “And you know this how?”

“Because I know—or knew, at any rate—you. In school, you were always the sounding board for everybody else, the guys, as well as the girls. It was weird,” he said when she softly laughed. “So how is it everybody can bitch to you, but you don’t feel right about letting somebody else bear the burden from time to time?”

Her hands tightened around the steering wheel. At perfect ten-to-two driving school formation. “Maybe because I don’t feel I need to, because I’m doing okay—”

“Like hell,” he said, and her eyes flashed to his. “I was there, Tess,” he said when she looked away, her mouth set in an angry line. “People who’re ‘okay’ don’t have wild sex with their old boyfriends.”

“And I could’ve gone all day without you bringing that up.”

“It happened, Tess. You can’t deny it. And God knows I’m not gonna. And it seems to me maybe you better figure out why it happened. Because if the earth tilts on its axis and we ever do that again, I wanna make good and sure it’s not because you’re mad at the world and taking it out on me.”

“If we ever…?” Her laugh this time was sharp. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Just saying, if it does.”

“Well, it’s not. So you can put that thought right out of your head.” She paused. “And I thought you didn’t care. About my…” Her lips smushed together. “Motivation.”

“That time, no. Just don’t let it become a habit.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Eli—” When he chuckled, she realized she’d been had. “I hate you,” she said, without heat.

“Ah…just like old times,” he said, propping one boot on the dashboard, earning a disapproving frown. “Do I make you nervous?”

Her head whipped around so fast her sunglasses slipped. “What? No!” When he raised one eyebrow, she released a breath. “Okay, maybe a little—”

“Ha!”

Her mouth turned down at the corners. “It’s…strange being around you again. That’s all.”

“You can say that again,” Eli said nonchalantly, slouching down as much as the seat belt would let him, his hands folded over his stomach.

“Do I…make you nervous?”

“Heck, yeah. ’Cause it’s like I should know you, you know? Only I don’t. And yet…”

“What?”

He looked at her. “Before, when we were kids? I know ninety, maybe ninety-five percent of the relationship was about body contact. But the five to ten percent that wasn’t?” Focusing back out the windshield, he said, “I really liked you, Tess. Hell, I thought you were the coolest person I’d ever known.”

“Oh, God, Eli—”

“Don’t go getting your panties in a twist. I’m not tryin’ to score or anything. Exactly.” He ducked, chuckling, when one hand flew over the gearshift to smack at him. “But I guess what I’m trying to say is, some tiny part of that—it’s still alive. On my side of the fence anyway. I mean, by rights, this should feel totally bizarre, right? After all those years apart, then us hooking up like that.” He waited for another sputtering explosion that never happened. “And yet in some ways this feels completely natural. Which is what makes it so weird.” He sighed. “Am I making any sense at all?”

The Home Depot in their sights, she met his eyes. “Yeah. You are.” Turning into the parking lot, she added, “Which only goes to show how bad off I am.”

However, once in the store, Tess impressed the hell out of him by charging straight to the cabinet section, no veering off down aisles they didn’t need to be. And within maybe thirty seconds of his showing her the few options that were not only in stock, but within their meager budget, she said, “That one. See you in Paint,” and off she went, leaving him to order what they needed. Not surprisingly, by the time he caught up with her in the paint department, the first of four different colors were being mixed up.

Leaning against the paint counter, Eli softly laughed.

“What’s so funny now?”

“Just never met a gal who didn’t prevaricate for a week about choosing paint colors. Took my mom three months to decide what color to repaint the living room, another month to choose the carpet to go with it.”

“And you’re basing all women on that one experience?”

“Nope. My ex-sister-in-law was just as bad. And there might’ve been a girlfriend or two along the way who’d watched one too many episodes on HGTV who’d dragged me shopping with her. Drove me nuts. Me, I point to something, say, ‘Yeah, that one,’ and that’s it. Half makes me wonder if you’re really a woman.”

Tess gave him a look. Eli grinned harder.

“So,” she said, moving smartly along, “you got close enough to a ‘girlfriend or two’ to do the decorating thing?”

“Not by choice, believe me.” He paused. “And that pretty much signaled the end of those relationships, too.”

“Death by paint chips?”

“You wanna send a man to hell, show him fifteen different shades of white and ask him which one he likes better.”

Tess laughed, and Eli smiled, thinking, Don’t stop. The dude clunked the first two gallons up on the counter, went to work on the next batch. “I’m not a ditherer. Especially when it’s not for me,” she said, skimming a finger along one can’s rim. A beat or two passed before she looked back at him. “And I’ve learned the sorts of colors more likely lead to an offer. Warm neutrals,” she said, holding up a swatch that reminded him of coffee with too much cream.

A few feet away, a couple started bickering with each other in Spanish. Figuring it wasn’t exactly a private affair, Eli didn’t even pretend not to listen in. Except they were talking too fast for him to pick out more than a word here and there. He nudged Tess with his elbow. “What’re they saying?” he whispered.

“What?” she said, then glanced over her shoulder. Shaking her head, she turned back to her paint swatches. “Something about his mother, but that’s about all I can make out. My Spanish is from hunger, remember?”

“Why is that?”

She shrugged. “Mom never let me speak it. She considered it low class. What do you think of this for the dining room?” she said, holding up another swatch.

“It’s…yellow? And what do you mean your mother considered it low class?”

“Just what I said. Not a whole lot of Latino love goin’ on in my house growing up. And can we please change the subject?”

He got the message. “You got a painter lined up?”

“Yeah. Me.”

“You?”

Again with the eyes. “I painted my whole house myself. I imagine I’ll be okay with a few accent walls and a bathroom. And it’ll help stay within the budget.” Grunting softly, she hefted first one can, then the other into the cart. “I’ve become very handy over the years, I’ll have you know.”

“You one of those gals who changes her own tires?”

“One of my least favorite jobs in the world, but yep. And my oil, sparkplugs and filters, too.”

“Impressive.”

“Not at all. Just easier than depending on someone else,” she said as the next can of paint appeared in front of them. Eli grabbed it before she did, if for no other reason than to avoid the strange look the paint-mixer dude was giving him. Maybe because Tess weighed less than the paint.

Forty-five minutes later—after choosing the cabinet hardware, backsplash tile and bathroom vanity and fixtures with equal efficiency—they were back in her SUV and Eli realized he was starving.

“Hey. Wanna burger or something? My treat.”

“I can buy my own lunch—”

“I’m sure you can, but you’re not gonna today. So deal. So what’ll it be? Mickey D’s, Wendy’s or Burger King?”

“I think my arteries just screamed.”

“You don’t eat meat?”

“Meat that doesn’t look like it’s been run over by a steamroller, sure. If something’s gonna eventually kill me, I’d at least like to enjoy the process.” Her mouth worked for a second before she abruptly turned off the highway onto a little street winding away from the touristy area. “You want a burger, I’ll show you a burger.”

Twenty minutes later, Eli grinned down at a burger so fat and juicy and sassy he half expected it to moo. Then he looked over at Tess, her eyes closed as she savored her own first bite, and something squeezed tight in his chest.

“I take it,” he said, “you haven’t had one of these in a while, either.”

Tess shot him a look, but was apparently too caught up in red meat worship to make a comeback. Swallowing, she shook her head. “Taking two little kids someplace like this is a waste. One bite and they’re done. Or have to go potty. Sure, the girls and I have our Ortega’s Wednesdays—sometimes—but it’s not the same as—”

Lowering her burger to her plate, she turned toward the window. But not before Eli saw tears swell in her eyes.

“Hey,” he said, dipping his head. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said on an embarrassed half laugh, then pressed the edge of her napkin to one eye. “Have no idea where that came from. Don’t take it personally.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“No, I mean…” She blew out a breath, then took a sip of her iced tea. “I’d just forgotten how nice it can be to have a civilized meal. Even if it’s just a burger and fries. Just two adults sitting in a booth…” She shook her head, laughing a little.

Covering.

“Hey,” Eli said, and she looked up again, chewing. “Admitting you enjoy the company of somebody over four feet tall isn’t a sign of weakness. Even if the company is me. Although I’m flattered as hell you consider me an adult.”

He’d expected—wanted—a laugh. Instead, she lowered her gaze again, dunking a French fry in a pool of ketchup for several seconds before answering. “Okay, confession time…watching you work, the way you interact with your crew…” She almost smiled. “Whatever personal baggage we have between us, I can’t deny the person I’ve seen over the past couple of weeks…”

Eli went completely still, watching her. Waiting. Finally she lifted her eyes, looking seriously put out with herself. “I was wrong about you, okay? And seeing somebody for who he is—not who you thought he was—has nothing to do with flattery.”

Wow. Talk about your whoa and damn moments. Eli leaned back, one arm stretched across the booth seat’s top. “Despite all the gossip?”